Show me how to live
by Red Warrior
Summary: Young Spectre is coping with the accident that changed his life years ago... how can he learn to live again?
1. Suffocating Life

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Don't own the song. I do own the plot, and if I've gotten anything wrong please don't kill me! I'm probably going to write a second and third chapter… tell me if I should!

_And with the early dawn  
Moving right along  
I couldn't buy an eyeful of sleep  
And in the aching night under satellites  
I was not received  
Built with stolen parts  
A telephone in my heart  
Someone get me a priest  
To put my mind to bed  
This ringing in my head  
Is this a cure or is this a disease_

_Nail in my hand  
From my creator  
You gave me life  
Now show me how to live_

_And in the after birth  
On the quiet earth  
Let the stains remind you  
You thought you made a man  
You better think again  
Before my role defines you_

_And in your waiting hands  
I will land  
And roll out of my skin  
And in your final hours I will stand  
Ready to begin_

"Show me how to live" _by _Audioslave.

_**Show me how to live**_

Fifteen years old Spectre the Echidna clutched his chest in pain, gritting his teeth. He refused to cry; he had shed enough tears over the last week. He rolled on his bed, fighting off his sobs. That wasn't any way for a Guardian to behave; he had to be strong, he had to be courageous, he wasn't supposed to break down. And yet here he was…

His ribs hurt again. Hawking had warned him that this might happen, since he just replaced his three cybernetic ribs at the beginning of the week. It did happen… and boy, did it hurt! Spectre hadn't slept for nights, the awful pain keeping him alert. If he were to fall asleep, he was assaulted by nightmares of his encounter with the reason he was in the state he was in now. Enerjak.

It took place at least eight years ago. He was a mere child back then, wondering why he was alone, who were his parents, when Enerjak has attacked him. Quick and brutal, two adjectives that could very well describe what happened. If it wasn't for his ancestors, Spectre would have died on that day. They brought him to Haven, where they tried to keep him alive by all means.

By all means…

These 'means' were the reason why Spectre hated growing more than anything else. Indeed, Enerjak had shattered his legs and his ribs, as well as his left arm, and had broken the back of his skull. Hawking had implanted him metallic limbs and ribs, but that wasn't the end of it: as every teenager does, Spectre was growing, and these cybernetics parts needed to be replaced each time his body developed.

The black echidna gritted his teeth and griped a handful of his sheets. This time the horrible pain had sent him over the edge; he couldn't even tell where it hurt. He felt like his whole body was being crushed from the inside and the outside at the same time. He clutched his scarred chest again, and this time felt something wet and warm run over his hand. He looked down, and surely enough there was blood seeping out of his surgery scars, spreading over his white sheets and tainting them a dark red.

Spectre forced himself to calm down, as terrified as he was by the sight of his own blood slipping from his body. He tried to close his mind, this way his ancestors wouldn't know about his despair and pain; but no such luck. He heard his grandfather Rembrandt send him a mental message. _We're coming, Fifth son, hold on._

Oh great. Now he was passing for a weakling. What were his ancestors going to think? His father? They were surely ashamed of him, of his weak state, and kept him alive because he had Guardian blood, that's all.

He chuckled in spite of himself. _How ironic. My head is missing spines, and I can't grow one. I'm spineless in every way. What an ironic double meaning…_

The young male bared his teeth as the pain came again; he felt like a dagger was being plunged through his torso. By now it was so intense he was seeing white spots dancing before his eyes whenever he opened them. He honestly thought he was going to die…

The door slid open, and Rembrandt rushed inside, followed by Moonwatcher and Jordan. Spectre groaned and turned away from them, not wanting them to see the blood on his fur nor the tears beginning to fill his crimson eyes. He wrapped his arms around his chest and tried to fake sleep, but winced as he felt his metallic arm come in contact with his bleeding wounds.

"Fourth nephew?" Jordan asked, concerned. "How are you feeling?"

_Great, I've never been better in my whole damn life. _"Fine," Spectre mumbled.

"Drop your foolish pride, Spectre," Rembrandt said. "You know it won't work."

When his fifth son didn't respond, the strangely-clothed echidna came forward and put his hand on the young one's shoulder. He felt him shudder under his touch, and frowned. Something was not right. It wasn't like Spectre to turn away like that. He was preparing to speak when he felt something warm seep its way through his glove. At first he thought it was sweat, but when he looked down, he widened his eyes upon seeing the bloodied sheets and his red-tainted glove.

"By Edmund, Spectre!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us about that?"

Spectre turned around ever so slowly, his face a mixture of contained pain and… fear? Yes, that was fear that reflected in those red eyes, Rembrandt realised. Fear of what they were going to do to him. "I… I didn't want you to think I'm weak," he whispered. "I didn't want you to get angry."

"Why in the world would we get angry?" Rembrandt asked softly, sitting on the edge of his fifth son's bed. "And we do not you see you as a weak person. I, personally, wouldn't have coped with this the way you did. You greatly impressed me."

Spectre groaned again and refused to unwrap his arms from around his chest. "Be realistic, I won't have that much of a life-" He was cut off by a sharp pain in his solar plexus, and bared his teeth to avoid crying out. Jordan felt a pang of pity for his young fourth nephew. He hated having to watch others suffer, and Spectre's pain was twisting his mind like no other pain before.

The young one took a deep breath and continued: "After all, you might as well kill me now and find another wife for Father, so he can have another son that would be the next Guardian."

"What do you mean, Fifth son?" Rembrandt asked, confused. "You're Tobor's son. You're the next Guardian."

"I do have the blood of Guardians running in my veins. But think about it – who would want some monster such as me for a husband, let alone the father of a child? Which woman would be willing to spend the rest of her life with me? To even be near me? Think about it. I've had more time than needed to do it." By now, tears were spilling over Spectre's cheeks, and he didn't try to hide his wounds anymore.

"Spectre…" Rembrandt reached over and wrapped his arm around the younger's shoulders. Spectre didn't struggle as his grandfather pulled him close and hugged him, careful of his bleeding gashes. "Ssh, calm down… why are you saying that?"

"Because it's true," Spectre whispered. "Nobody will ever want someone like me."

Rembrandt stroked Spectre's spineless head, making shushing noises to calm his fifth son down. He understood his despair. He understood his worry. But there was nothing he could do to help it, besides reassure Spectre as much as he could.

Spectre sobbed into his fifth father's chest for several minutes. Jordan and Moonwatcher could do nothing but watch, respecting this moment. Rembrandt rubbed Spectre's back, slowly rocking him back and forth, giving the young one all the comfort and support he needed. _So young… so many years ahead of him… and all of that ruined._

"Of course you'll find someone, don't worry about that," Rembrandt whispered gently. "I'm sure you will."

"No, it's impossible," Spectre moaned. "I'm ugly. I'm a monster. The only thing women will do is scream and run away. I'll end up alone, no wife, no children. Alone for my whole life! I can't bear that thought! Please kill me now and let Tobor have another son before it's too late!" The young echidna was near hysterics.

Rembrandt sighed and pulled Spectre a little closer. His fifth son was a teenager, he shouldn't be thinking about marriage and children at that age. But his accident had made him more mature, more aware of his future – and also more septic. He knew his life wouldn't be 'normal', in Guardians' terms of course. "Spectre, look at me."

Spectre sniffed once and raised his head up, his tears-filled red eyes looking at his fifth father. "Were the woman you love to run away because of these-" He raised Spectre's metallic arm. "-then she doesn't belong with you. Your wife, your _true _wife and love, should never be scared of you. She shall not care about your physic; she shall love you the way you are."

"But – look at me. Black fur, red eyes, and to top it off metallic limbs. I understand love is blind, but still… there's a limit."

"That's what love is all about, Fifth son," Rembrandt smiled. "Love knows no limits. You'll find that out soon enough. Come on, now, let's get you cleaned up."

Spectre groaned. For a moment he'd forgotten all about his bleeding scars, and wished they'd just go away. But no such luck; he winced when he felt pain returning once again. Rembrandt frowned. "Can you walk?"

"I don't know," Spectre said through clenched teeth. He forced his remaining muscles to work and sat up in his bed, wincing every step of the way. Well, he'd managed, hadn't he? Now to stand up… He yelped when he put his cybernetic foot on the ground, pain sweeping through his thighs where metal met flesh. He fought off his tears, and stubbornly tried to get up. Landing square into Moonwatcher's arms.

Spectre had the sudden urge to whimper. He was so weak he couldn't even walk. _Such a Guardian you are… _He felt Moonwatcher pull him upright, holding onto his real arm as Rembrandt wrapped the cybernetic one around his shoulders. No revulsion. His ancestor smiled down at him. "I know you don't want any of us to carry you. But I'm sure you don't mind us helping you to walk."

Spectre nodded, and they began walking out of his room, Jordan following closely in case the younger tripped. Spectre winced at first, not liking the feeling of walking with these things one bit. It was painful, but he got used to it and showed less and less difficulties to walk. This alone impressed Rembrandt and Moonwatcher, who smiled gently.

"There, you see? You can walk again because we can show you how to walk," Rembrandt said brightly. "You're not going down yet, Fifth son."

Spectre had to smile, but inside his heart sank down. _Yes, grandfathers, you can show me how to walk. But can you show me how to live?_


	2. Discovering Life

Disclaimer: I don't own the song, nor the Brotherhood who belongs to Archie. Though Tressa-Ca is mine and so is the plot. Enjoy.

_When this began  
I had nothing to say  
And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me  
I was confused  
And I let it all out to find  
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind   
Inside of me  
But all the vacancy the words revealed  
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel  
Nothing to lose   
Just stuck, hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own_

I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real  
I wanna let go of the pain I've held so long  
Erase all the pain till it's gone  
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real  
I wanna find something I've wanted all along  
Somewhere I belong

And I've got nothing to say  
I can't believe I didn't fall right down on my face  
I was confused  
Looking everywhere only to find  
That it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind  
So what am I  
What do I have but negativity  
'Cause I can't justify the way, everyone is looking at me  
Nothing to lose  
Nothing to gain, hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

I will never know myself until I do this on my own  
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed  
I will never be anything till I break away from me  
I will break away, I'll find myself today

"Somewhere I Belong" _by _Linkin' Park.

**Chapter Two : Discovering Life**

He saw the bright light before he felt it, and had to close his eyes half-way, afraid of getting blinded. He blinked once, but he quickly got used to it, and walked out of the darkness that has given him not only shelter, but his name as well.

For the first time in twelve years, Spectre stepped out of Haven.

Taking a big breath and by doing that stretching his eighteen years old body, Spectre filled his lungs with cool and fresh air. He'd often dreamt of the day he would get away from this place, even if it was just for a few hours. He'd longed for the feel of sunlight on his dark fur, for a walk in the forest. And now he could finally have it.

Well, to be truthful, he wasn't _exactly _supposed to be there. His ancestors had been less than happy when he had told them he was going out, maybe a little reluctant… all right, they had forbidden him to do so. He smiled when he remembered Mathias' startled gasp and Moonwatcher's horrified look; he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he wasn't going to spend his whole life stuck here. So he had sneaked out early in the morning, when his ancestors were still asleep.

Spectre yawned; he hadn't gotten so much as an hour of sleep, afraid as he was that he would wake up too late. He could prove to be very hot-headed when he wanted to, and this was one of those moments.

The young echidna began walking at a calm pace. He was amazed: he could actually _feel _the path he was walking on, the leaves being crushed under his metallic feet. He smiled, the memory of a previous conversation with Hawking coming back to him.

It had taken place a month ago. Spectre was lying in a bed of the medical wing, after his latest limbs replacement. He'd growled when he had felt a new pain run for the first time in his metallic left arm. "Can you tell me _why _you had put _nerves _in those things again?" he'd asked grumpily.

Hawking had sighed. "This way you have them in better and total control, and as for the rest… you'll find out by yourself." The older one had smiled, but said nothing more.

Spectre understood now. With this new version, he could feel things. Heat and cold, good and… pain. Yes, another proof that good things never come alone.

XXXXXXX

Spectre has never seen anything such as this before. From his spot atop the hill, it looked like a bunch of houses and buildings stuck together, grooved by concrete paths and filled with people. The entire area was very large, at least as big as Haven and maybe more. He frowned; where has ever he heard that word? Yes… it was something known as a _town. _

_Grandfather Rembrandt told me about something called a town. I guess it must be this. Wonder what will happen if I was to go there… _A curious glint lit up in his ruby eyes, and he was suddenly attracted to this _town. _He felt like he almost ought to go there, to study people, to visit the place. To discover what real life was really about.

He made the unconscious decision to head towards the town, and after a few steps caught sight of a sign. A name was written on it. _Echidnaopolis. So, echidnas live here? Interesting… _He then felt more confident, and walked calmly towards Echidnaopolis as the gentle wind played with his dark fur. He was half-way there when a high-pitched scream made him stop dead in his tracks.

Frowning, his sharp sight saw a bunch of young children standing not so far from where he was. There were four of them, and they were all playing catch, which explained the delighted scream. Spectre smiled to himself, and his adult instincts told him to go over to the young ones and be kind to them. After all, he needed friends more than anything else, no matter how old they were.

He began heading slowly towards them, forgetting all about his metallic limbs, his torn up appearance. For once he was who he really was. A teenager in need of some friends, of someone to talk and laugh with. He was Spectre the Echidna, and not Guardian Spectre the Metallic Echidna.

As he neared the children, he felt his heart warming up. They were so young, so full of life just as he was before… the accident. There was a time when he enjoyed running through the forest and trying to catch butterflies, stopping only when his legs couldn't carry him anymore and he laid on the floor, gazing at the sky.

Now running had lost its interest to Spectre, because he knew he would never get tired with those metallic limbs of his. And he would surely break something, and he couldn't bear the thought of Hawking scolding him as if he was a five years old. He couldn't have that. There were times when he wanted nothing but to break out of Haven and run, pushing himself as hard as he could till he was out of breath. But those moments usually lasted no more than a few seconds, and his mature side got the best of him again. He was fated to be tamed, and needed no one but himself to do so.

Spectre was jerked out of his train of thoughts as a kid screamed again. But it wasn't delighted as the previous one was: this one was a cry of fear. He was astonished to see the four children scatter and run away from him, and didn't quite understand the reason of their fright at first. Then all came back to him: his dark appearance, his replaced limbs, bloody red eyes… No wonder the kids had had a fit. _How could I have forgotten that in the first place? _

Lost between shame and confusion, Spectre went forwards to apologize and tell them there was nothing to be afraid of, when a hand clamped his shoulder and threw him back against a tree. He ground his teeth, and braced himself for a fight when he noticed his attacker was no other than Grandfather Rembrandt. And he was looking furious.

"What _exactly _were you thinking, Fifth son!" he yelled. "Sneaking out and getting yourself into trouble like that! I thought you knew better!"

Spectre, caught off guard, stood there opening his mouth and closing it several times. What he had done wasn't exactly wrong, but that didn't mean he has the right to be there. He couldn't decide on what to do. Apologize? No way. If there was one thing stronger than his maturity, it was his ego, and it couldn't afford useless apologies. Go against his grandfather? Possible, if you had suicidal intentions…

Rembrandt mistook Spectre's confused silence for a defiant one, and bent forwards glaring at his fifth son. "_Well? _What do you have to say for yourself, young man? I trust you know you had all of us on edge back at Haven, when we didn't find you anywhere."

"I… I didn't," Spectre stammered lamely, "I didn't mean to have you worried. I just wanted to walk around and breathe some fresh air, that's all…"

"That's all? _That's all?"_ Rembrandt roared, and Spectre cringed inwardly. He had never seen his fifth father that angry before, and it was definitely something he _hadn't _wanted to see. "Don't you realize, Spectre? We haven't been confining you within Haven for all these years just for fun! We have been _protecting _you, _hiding _you." Rembrandt's voice became gentler, and his features softened slightly. "World is unfair, Spectre, and so is life. We knew people wouldn't see you the way we did, so we got you to stay at Haven. That's why we weren't too thrilled about you going out and all."

"But," the dark echidna said, shocked and confused at the same time. "How did you expect me to grow up and start a family? Have you planned every minute of my days? Don't you give a damn about the way I'd like my life to be led?" By now Spectre was at least as furious as Rembrandt was minutes before. How _dare _they take decisions about his life without his opinion? Was he just an object to them, a problem to take care of? Well, he sure was going to give them a piece of his mind!

"Listen," Spectre growled warningly. "I won't allow you to lead my life anymore. Sure, I'm grateful because you cared for me and all, but living is getting hard enough with those forsaken things-" he motioned to his cybernetics limbs, "-so just leave me alone for a while, alright? I'm not a toy you can play with then cast away when you get bored. I'm not something, I'm not anything. I'm someone, and you better damn remember it from now on!"

"Fifth son, calm down, no need to-"

"Yes, I apparently need to say it because none of you seems to realize it. I'm a person, and I think I'm able to make my own decisions without anyone sticking his nose in! I'm not a kid anymore!"

Rembrandt's anger spilled over. He hadn't meant for it to go this far, and hadn't planned to sound cruel, but it was time for extreme measures. "Look at you, Spectre! You're acting like a child right now, and don't deny it! Look at you! Don't you know _why _we didn't want you out of Haven and running around? Because we knew you would scare the hell out of people, Spectre! Can't you see how torn up you look? Seeing you in a street would be like walking past Enerjak in a market!"

Spectre was taken aback by this sudden burst of anger and, he realized, truth. Yes, he did look torn apart, but he had dared to think for a minute that people would understand, would see him as one of their own in spite of his present state. He hadn't thought that people could be that cruel as to hate him.

The young one cast his sight downwards, and Rembrandt realized his words had hurt Spectre more than he would have wanted. He softened instantly and reached for his fifth son. "I-I'm sorry, Spectre, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be sorry," the black one whispered. "You spoke from your heart. I can't blame you for telling the truth, Grandfather." He sighed and turned on his heels. "I'll be back. Don't worry." He then ran off into the woods, much to Rembrandt's despair and shock. He hadn't expected his fifth son to run off like that, but then again he has never been in Spectre's situation before. _What am I going to tell the others, now?_

XXX

Spectre pushed himself as hard and as far as his metallic legs would allow him. He ran blindly through the trees, making sure he reached a place he had never seen before and, when he was certain he was lost, he slumped against a tree down to the ground. The young echidna then put his head in his hands, and thought.

He thought long and hard, so focused in his own world he lost track of time and soon night was setting without him noticing it. When he opened his eyes again, darkness surrounded him and he felt cold creeping through his fur. He shivered, and instinctively wrapped his arms around himself; but when he felt the cold metal of his left arm against his side, he gritted his teeth. Yes, he was a monster, Grandfather Rembrandt was right. Yes, he would have scared people out of their skin, Grandfather Rembrandt was right again. He didn't know why, but he had _had _to give it a try.

He sighed and got up slowly. Now, he was not only a monster, but a lost and disturbed one at that. _Great. My stupid pride just had to get the best of me and now here I am. Great, just great. Well, no time for self recriminations, I have to find my way back to Haven or else… I wonder what lives in this forest, at night…_

Not wanting to end up into some wild animal's plate, Spectre began making his way through the thick bushes and trees. He became desperate when after a few minutes he couldn't tell where he was, nor in which direction he was walking. _Why oh why oh why did I have to run this far? Now if I ever find my way back to Haven, I'll have to endure Fifth father's "Told you so," and Second father's "Serves you right." Damn it. _He walked nevertheless, heading straight ahead and never once looking back.

It took him all night, some doing, an encounter with two black beasts – which he had a hard time to get rid of, judging by the scratches and bite marks all over his shoulders and torso – but he finally made it to Haven. The sun was slowly setting as he punched his access code in, panting as he leaned heavily against the side of the elevator. Now he would have to face his ancestors, and he'd rather fight with a hundred animals than endure their angered glares.

After a short journey in the elevator, Spectre found exactly what he has been expecting and dreading to find. All of his ancestors reunited in the elevator room, staring at him. Some worry was showing on Rembrandt's face, but Mathias' and Hawking's glares held pure fury in them. They hadn't taken it really well when Rembrandt's had told them about the youngest's jaunt.

Spectre raised a hand up, cutting them off before any of them could open his mouth, as if to say "I know, I know, no need to twist the knife". It was far too early and he was far too tired to endure a conversation with his ancestors. He strode out of the elevator bay straight to his bedroom, and lay on his bed with a sigh. _I'll get away for now, but how long will it be till they get me?_

XXX

Spectre's been wrong. Instead of yelling at him and punishing him, they'd understood – with a little help from Rembrandt, he guessed. Nobody ever made a comment, although he could feel their irritated glares on him whenever he walked past one of them.

Then, a week later, Rembrandt walked in his fifth son's room carrying a bundle of dark clothes apparently wrapped around something. He smiled kindly at Spectre's confused expression. "Well, hello there Fifth son," he said. "I trust you slept well?"

The dark echidna nodded absently, still eyeing the ebony clothes his relative carried suspiciously. He couldn't help a bad feeling from creeping its way into him. _Something is up, _he thought. _It isn't like him to beat around the bush. Better go straight to the point and see what's going on. _"What are these for?" he asked, motioning to the clothes.

Rembrandt's weak smile faded quickly, and he sighed as he put the clothes gently on the bed. "I have news for you, Spectre. First, we've all debated and discussed over what you did a week ago, and we've come to an agreement.

Rembrandt's weak smile faded quickly, and he sighed as he put the bundle gently on the bed. "I have news for you, Spectre. First, we've all debated and discussed over what you did a week ago, and we've come to an agreement. You're allowed to go to the outside world."

Spectre was so stunned it took him a few seconds to assimilate what his fifth father had just said. His ancestors, who had absolutely forbidden him to go to the surface just a week ago, suddenly allowed him to do so? _I smell a fish… _He then frowned; there was something behind this radical change of mind. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Rembrandt sighed once again. "Fifth son, before I tell you anything, I want you to know I didn't mean any of the things I said back there. I was worried, angry, and that's why I burst out. I'm really sorry, and I'll understand if you stay mad at me." The elder nodded before speaking again. "We talked about you, Spectre, and some of us convinced the others you weren't meant to be secluded your entire life, so you're allowed to go out if you want to, and you'll be welcomed in Haven should you come back."

The young one nodded to his ancestors, but somehow felt it wasn't the end of it. "But?"

_How can he do that? _"But, as some others wouldn't agree to our terms, we reached a deal. You may go out, yes, but not like this. You have to, hmm, how did Hawking put it already? Ah, yes, you have to "remain safe"." Rembrandt chuckled bitterly. "In others words he means "I'll rip your head off if you attract attention on the Brotherhood". You know how he is, jumping to bad conclusions whenever Haven is involved. So, ahem, back to where I was, we decided you should… dress up, so to say."

Spectre raised a puzzled eyebrow as his grandfather reached for the bundle of clothes and unfolded it, revealing a round and metallic object. The dark one realized it was some sort of helmet the same size as an echidna head. He was about to ask something when Rembrandt spoke up. "In order to hide the scars and metal on your skull, Hawking designed you this. Come here, and try it on."

Hesitating at first, Spectre got up slowly and made his way towards his fifth father. Rembrandt put the clothes back on the bed, and held the helmet up. Spectre couldn't help but wince as he observed the metallic visor; more cybernetic parts, great… As if it wasn't enough, now he had to wear a helmet. Nice one, Hawking…

"All right, stay still." Rembrandt slipped the helmet on Spectre's head and adjusted it so it wouldn't restrain the younger one's movements. The visor actually engulfed Spectre's entire skull to his forehead, and reached between his shoulder blades. He tried moving his arms, and found out he could easily flail without dislodging the helmet. He didn't know if he should feel angry or happy; then something occurred to him. "And what about my arm and legs?" he asked, motioning to his replaced limbs. "What about my ribs? Don't tell me you have helmets for them as well!"

Rembrandt chuckled and shook his head. "No, Fifth son. You'll hide your others cybernetic parts in a more traditional way." The elder one grabbed the dark clothes and laid them out; they were black pants and an equally black shirt, along with a pair of white gloves. "There you go. Should you need them I put boots in the elevator room. Now it's up to you, Spectre. Live your life as you want. But remember, Fifth son: you'll always be welcome here."

XXX

Freshly clad in his black clothes and dark brown boots, Spectre stepped into sunlight while putting his white gloves on. He'd never liked the feeling of furniture being brushed against his fur, that's why he never wore clothes before. _I guess I'll have to get used to it, and fast. _He briefly scratched his left shoulder, and walked on.

It wasn't long till he reached Echidnaopolis. He arrived in the town with the same delight as a child on Christmas Day. He marvelled at people's ignorance of his presence, for he was just getting quick looks at his helmet; but eventually they moved on, whispering things like "Young minds these days…" Spectre wandered here and there, exploring the city, all the while keeping a big pleased grin plastered on his face. Finally, he could go wherever he wanted without everybody looking at him like a strange caged animal.

He was so lost in his own world he wasn't looking where he was going, and bumped into someone. Spectre gritted his teeth as his metallic ribs were hit by another body, but composed himself before he spoke. "Sorry, I wasn't looking," he apologized.

"No harm done, and anyway it was I who was walking too fast," a clear voice answered him. He then looked attentively at the person he had bumped into. He was surprised to see the person was actually a female echidna, and a very pretty one at that. One head shorter than him, she had light lavender fur and dark brown hair. Her aqua blue eyes looked up at him, and he could tell he was staring when she asked: "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Spectre shook his head clear. "Yes! I mean, yes I'm hurt and no I'm not all right! Err, I mean yes I… Well, you know what I mean!" He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed by his confused behaviour. _Great, now she must think I'm an idiot, making a fool out of myself._

The female, however, didn't find this annoying and smiled kindly at the young black echidna, who then realized she has to be the same age as him. He returned the smile weakly, and then stopped dead when he realized he has been scratching his helmet for the past few seconds. Spectre got his hands behind his back, shifting his weight on his legs. "Well, I suppose you have things to attend to, now. I'll just be going."

He tried to walk away, but the girl spoke again. "Wait, I don't think I've already seen you around. Are you new in town?"

Spectre frowned. _Oh, might as well… _"Yes, I just arrived." And that was when he fully realized he had to find shelter for the night. After all, he was on his own, now, and he couldn't go back to Haven every night seeing as it was too far away from Echidnaopolis. "Could you tell me where I can find a hotel or somewhere to spend the night? My arrival here is kind of unexpected," he blurted out before he could stop himself. He felt like slapping himself; why should she care about him?

Coming to his senses, the dark one opened his mouth but was cut off by the girl. "There isn't any hotel in this town, only apartments, and I doubt you'll find one before the end of the day. Why don't you come at my home and sleep there? At last till you find somewhere to live," she proposed kindly.

Spectre was startled; he hadn't expected this. "Why would you do this?" he asked. Years spent locked up in Haven, alone and in pain, had built a shell over his heart. He couldn't understand why one would help someone he doesn't even know.

The female shrugged. "Because I don't get to help someone everyday, and it's the right thing to do, that's why. Come on, night will be setting soon, and my parents' house is on the outskirts of Echidnaopolis! No time to waste!" She grabbed his left hand – the metallic one – and began walking with him following her.

Spectre winced inwardly when he felt her fingers press against his cybernetic palm through the glove. He wondered why she didn't react; either she hadn't realized or she didn't mind.

He found himself staring again at the young female walking by his side. He thought she was kind, and you wouldn't have to push him to make him admit she wasn't unpleasant to look at. Could it be… no, you can't fall in love with someone you just met minutes before. His mind was playing tricks on him, that was the only explication.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as she turned to him, smiling. "By the way, my name is Tressa-Ca. What's yours?"

"I'm Spectre. Spectre the Echidna," he answered.

And for the first time in years, he felt like he truly was the person that was so often pushed aside or neglected. He truly was Spectre the Echidna.


	3. Enjoying Life

Disclaimer: Just know that Archie characters are not mine, I own Tressa-Ca, and enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day! (I'm all alone, poor me! Though I have my computer…)

_I thought love was  
Only true in fairy tales  
Meant for someone else  
But not for me  
Love was out to get to me  
That's the way it seems  
Disappointment haunted  
All my dreams_

_I thought love was  
More or less a given thing  
The more I gave the less  
I got, oh yeah  
What's the use in trying  
All you get is pain  
When I wanted sunshine  
I got rain_

_And then I saw her face  
Now I'm a believer  
Not a trace  
Of doubt in my mind  
I'm in love  
I'm a believer  
I couldn't leave her  
If I tried_

"I'm a Believer" _by _Smash Mouth

**Chapter Three: Enjoying Life**

Spectre the Echidna smiled as he held his beloved wife's hand, leading her to their new home. She returned his warm smile and squeezed his hand – fortunately, his flesh one. And as he bent his head down to nuzzle her neck, Spectre surrendered to his happy thoughts.

It seemed like it was just yesterday they met in that street, but in fact two years have been ensuing since that moment. Spectre and Tressa-Ca had moved from strangers to friends, then something more. And now they were married, and have been for the past few hours. Spectre had found a nice house near the limits of Echidnaopolis, and had bought it for them to start their own family.

But then Spectre couldn't help but frown. Start a family? How was he supposed to do that without her noticing his ragged body? He'll have to show her… show her what his real appearance was. He knew he should have told her before their marriage, even before they began dating, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Bring himself to break two hearts at the same time. Although she had asked a few questions, he had never answered them truthfully, pretending it was because of "medical reasons" he had to wear a helmet. But he couldn't hide anymore. _Better tell her than let her discover by herself…_

Tressa's voice cut into his mind. "Spectre, are you all right? You've been standing here for at least two minutes unmoving. Is everything okay, honey?"

The dark echidna shook his head and smiled weakly. "Yes, I'm fine, don't worry. Well, why don't we _explore _our new home? I'm sure there are plenty of things to see, and after all we'll be in there for a long time, so better get used to it!" He was reassured to see her smile and squeeze his arm as they walked towards the front door.

They spent the rest of the day arranging things in their house; but eventually, the moment Spectre dreaded has come. Sitting on the couch after dinner, they had begun kissing and squeezing each other; Spectre knew where this would lead, and after all there was nothing he could do to prevent it. They were married, on "honeymoon", and he wanted it as much as Tressa did. Only one problem: him.

He gave away a startled yelp as Tressa reached for his helmet. He caught her wrists in time and looked up at her lying on top of him. "Don't," he whispered. "Please don't."

"Why not, Spectre?" she asked him softly. "I think you'll have no use for it…" She nuzzled her cheek against his, but was confused when she heard him sigh. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything, that's just it," Spectre whispered. He sat up and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. "Tressa, I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time, but I never got the chance – or the guts – to do so."

Tressa was looking confusedly at her husband, wondering what in the world he was talking about. But she did understand that it was something important, and so listened attentively to Spectre, who had opened his bloody red eyes. Those eyes… she has never been afraid of them, though they gave him a cruel look; she knew he wasn't evil on the inside despite what others echidnas said about him.

Spectre drew in a big breath. "Tressa, I'm going to show you something no one in Echidnaopolis knows about. The reason why I should have told you sooner is that you'll probably go away from me, so…"

He slowly got up and stood in front of his wife. To her it looked like it took him every inch of strength to stand. The black echidna brought his hands up to his head and, grabbing the helmet, let it fall to the ground. He didn't stop to see what Tressa's reaction was; he wouldn't be able to go all the way now if he did. Spectre took off his white gloves; the right one first then the left, revealing his mechanical hand. With a sigh, he removed his shirt and thus showed his cybernetic left arm and his scarred chest. Then his strength left him and he gave up on taking his pants off.

Eyes tightly closed, Spectre waited for a scream, a gasp, but neither came. He set his bloody sight upon Tressa, and found her staring at him. No fear, no horror in those aqua blue eyes. Just plain and pure concern. "God, Spectre," she whispered, astonished. "I didn't know…" She went over to him and gently put her hand on his cheek. She stroked his spineless head, the part of his body Spectre never thought someone would touch intentionally. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I was afraid," he admitted softly. "Afraid that you would get frightened and that I would lose you." He cast his eyes downwards, ashamed. But he raised his head when he felt his wife take his metallic hand and press it against her cheek; Spectre had to wonder why she wasn't disgusted. He realized he could feel her fur under his cybernetic fingers. She then smiled at him warmly.

"You will never scare me, Spectre," she whispered softly to her husband. Tressa then caught the dark male off guard by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him square on the lips. Spectre widened his eyes, but soon wrapped his own arms, flesh and metal, around his wife's slender waist and kissed her back. It wasn't just any kiss; this one, besides being passionate, was a proof of Tressa's undying love for Spectre no matter what.

They hugged each other lovingly, and Tressa put her head on Spectre's chest, tracing the surgery scars there with a finger. The dark echidna put his chin on top of her head, sighing in contentment. It felt so good to be held by someone who loved him even though she knew about his appearance. He swore he would never, ever leave her side.

"I love you, Tressa," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you too, Spectre," she responded before kissing him again.

The rest of what happened that night is history.

XXXXXXX

Two months later, in the middle of a night.

Spectre gritted his teeth and rolled on his side. That pain… that awful pain was back. He has thought it had left him for good, but he has been wrong. He clutched his chest as he did so many years before, and a moan was out before he could help it.

He turned to Tressa-Ca, and was relieved to see his wife still asleep. Silently as to avoid waking her up, he sat up on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. No, it couldn't be… now at the best time of his life, that pain chose to stick its nose in. He had lived the past few months with dreams that he wouldn't have to feel that pain ever again. It couldn't come back… could it?

A sharp painful jolt pierced his chest, and he fought a cry as well as his tears. He was a grown-up now, a twenty years old Guardian; he couldn't allow himself to cry whenever he was in pain. In front of his wife on top of that. _Some Guardian I make… _But he couldn't help a solitary droplet from rolling on his cheek. He wiped his eyes furiously, and took big breaths to calm down. Spectre winced in spite of himself; the more he contracted, the more it hurt. And the more it hurt, the more he contracted…

Now sweating and panting, Spectre got up, ignoring the pang of pain in his thighs and went to a door on the side of their bedroom. The bathroom.

Shakily, he got to the sink and gently splashed water on his burning up face. He then put his hands on either side of the sink, gasping for air as he watched droplets of water fall from his fur. He had prayed to all of his ancestors that the pain wouldn't return, but this dreaded day has come anyway.

Spectre raised his head up, staring off into the mirror above the sink. There, he saw a dark-furred echidna looking at him. He saw bloodshot red eyes, filled with tears that refused to fall. He saw a spineless head, with an ugly scar on top and metal behind. How much he hated that reflection. How much he hated himself.

The young echidna had half a mind to punch the mirror, and raised his flesh fist to do so. But he gave up with a tired sigh, and instead bent forwards. Spectre put his sweating forehead against the mirror, grateful for the feeling of the cool glass on his burning skin, and closed his eyes. What now? Should he go back to Haven for another replacement? He winced at the very thought of it, which brought back many unpleasant memories. Hawking, the medical wing… surgery tools… pain…

He shook his head in denial; he had gotten used to the thought that he wouldn't have to endure this ever again. And now all of his hopes came crashing down: he had to go back, unless he wanted to die. Years ago he would have stayed right where he was, waiting for death to end his suffering. But now he wouldn't; he had a life, someone who loved him, and a family to start. He couldn't afford to die.

_Tomorrow… I'll wait till tomorrow morning and I'll go to Haven_, he thought. He tumbled back to the bedroom and sat on his bed, pain ripping through his legs and ribcage. _But will I be able to survive till tomorrow morning?_

Spectre shook that possibility off, and instead turned to his still sleeping wife. Spectre smiled and reached his flesh hand to tuck a strand of brown hair back; Tressa stirred lightly but didn't wake up. The black echidna almost forgot his hellish pain for a few seconds, wondering for the umpteenth time since his marriage what he has ever done to deserve such an angel by his side.

But as a pang of pain made itself known in his torso, Spectre crisped and laid on his side, turning away from Tressa. He fought off his sobs and braced himself for a long and sleepless night.

His tightly closed eyes opened when he felt an arm sneak its way around his waist, and he sighed tiredly. "Sorry I woke you up," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"No problem," Tressa answered sleepily. She then squeezed him gently. "How come you're awake so early?"

Spectre hesitated on this one. Part of him screamed at him to tell his wife the truth, but another and bigger part told him to keep quiet so he wouldn't sound like a weakling. But it didn't matter, however, because Tressa caught the hint. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Swallowing hard, Spectre nodded uneasily. Since the day she's known, Tressa has been able to tell when her husband was in pain, and did everything she could do to help him deal with it. It worked somewhat, but the pain was still here no matter what she said or did. Spectre was nevertheless grateful for her help.

Now was different. He didn't know how, or why, but he _felt _he had to go back to get his limbs and ribs replaced. And along came another problem: how in hell was he supposed to explain that to Tressa? Spectre realized he hasn't told her anything about his cybernetic parts being replaced every time his body grew. Yet he should have. _Damn._

He was going to say something, when she spoke before him. "I hope it'll wear out soon; it wouldn't be pleasant being in pain while my parents are here." Spectre almost choked. Parents? Here! _What the-_

"Wait, wait, wait," he stammered. He pushed himself in a sitting position, groaning because of his ribcage's change of place. "What's the matter with your parents? What have they got to do with anything?"

Tressa blinked. "Spectre, I told you they would come a week ago! You didn't forget, did you?"

The male just widened his eyes in surprise. _So, this is the thing I've been trying to remember for days… Though it reminds me _why _I've forgot it_. Spectre winced inwardly; not that he didn't like his wife's parents, but he felt uneasy in front of them because he knew he looked weird to them. When he had asked Tressa in marriage, her father had had a fit, but all worked out smoothly after a discussion with her daughter.

_And there is another problem, again_, Spectre thought. _I can't let Tressa alone, it would be rude and inappropriate. But on the other hand, if I stay here, I die. _He chuckled bitterly in his mind. _Look at me; here I am, making a big deal out of nothing. They probably won't be here soon, I'll probably have the time to go to Haven and come back. _"When will they arrive, already?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon."

Spectre was still for a few seconds, then fell back on the bed and hid his head under his pillow. _I'm dead,_ was his last thought before he passed out from exhaustion, pain and desperation.

XXXXXXX

Before the sun even rose, Spectre silently pulled open the front door of his house. He hadn't had the heart to wake Tressa up, and just left a note on her nightstand to tell her where he was going and that he would be back for lunch. He felt bad, creeping away like a thief, but he had to. Or else things would go wrong.

The sun made its entrance as Spectre neared Haven's main gate. It has been two years since the day he had last seen any of his ancestors, and he wasn't sure he would be greeted with open arms. But he held his head up and got in anyway.

Nothing. No one. Has nobody seen him coming? That's what it seemed, or was everybody still asleep? Spectre uneasily walked through the empty corridors, trying to ignore the heart-ripping pain in his muscles. Unconsciously, he made his way towards the medical wing, and was startled to see his fifth father Rembrandt sitting here, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and Spectre realized his grandfather was sobbing.

The pain blanked out for a while; Spectre has never seen his fifth father cry. Rembrandt has always been the strong one, the one to lift his grandson up when he thought he had had enough. Seeing him so lost, so helpless was a shock to Spectre, who felt his heart fill up with sympathy. Whatever was bothering Rembrandt, he was decided to help.

Spectre approached Rembrandt, who didn't notice his presence till the dark one put a hand on his shoulder. Rembrandt gasped and lifted tears-filled green eyes towards his grandson, who smiled weakly. "Hello," Spectre said quietly. "What's going on?"

Rembrandt swiftly got up and hugged his fifth son with all of his strength. Besides being extremely surprised, Spectre winced in pain as his ribcage was being crushed against his ancestor. He managed to wriggle his way out of Rembrandt's embrace, just to be hugged once again. "Fifth son!" the elder exclaimed. "You came back! It's been a while!"

"Two years, Grandfather," Spectre rasped. "Only two years!"

"My, how you've changed and grown…"

"That's exactly why I'm here. Do you mind letting go of me?" Rembrandt released his grandson, who sighed in relief. "Thanks. Now, tell me what's going on? And don't tell me nothing, I saw you cry."

Rembrandt's happiness fell at once, and he cast his sight downwards. "We've been attacked," he whispered. His voice seemed so raw it seemed like his throat was burning. "The Legion… they found another entrance to Haven and destroyed the security system there. By the time we realized what had happened, they were on us." Rembrandt wiped a tear away, inhaling deeply. "It's a miracle we managed to win and make them run away, but Jordan… you know how he was shaken when his brother died?"

Spectre nodded; the day Aaron, Jordan's older brother and Rembrandt's eldest son, died in a battle against the Dark Legion, Jordan swore to be "the Guardian Aaron would never be", and secretly swore to avenge his brother's death.

"Well, he wanted revenge," Rembrandt whispered. "My son ran towards what remained of the group that attacked us… and to his death. He fought, and killed some Legionnaires, but unfortunately…" The tears were now freely running on the brown echidna's cheeks, and he made no move to stop them. "It's a wonder we managed to find his body in one piece, so to speak. Hawking tried to save him, but it was no use. Now my two sons are dead… A father should never have to bury his own children!"

Rembrandt fell on his chair and buried his head in his hands again. Spectre didn't know how to react; his fourth uncle was dead. Sure, he has never been very close to Jordan, but they respected each other and Spectre liked him for that. He could feel despair and extreme sadness coming from Rembrandt's wide open mind, and cursed himself for making a big deal out of his little problems. Others were suffering more than he was.

"I'm sorry, Fifth father," he whispered. He took Rembrandt's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The brown echidna returned the squeeze, and Spectre was suddenly and brutally reminded why he was here when he felt his cybernetic fingers scream in pain. "Ah, grandfather. Could you tell me where Hawking is?"

XXXXXXX

A couple of hours and some surgery later, Spectre was getting out of the medical wing, slightly bent forwards as he got used to his newly replaced ribs. Hawking had warned him that it would hurt a little more than usual, seeing as he hasn't replaced his cybernetic parts for two years. But it was fine by Spectre; at least he would be able to be with Tressa during her parents' stay. He also had gotten a day off of his duties as a Guardian.

It was near lunchtime when he got home, but eating wasn't on his to-do list. Sitting and resting seemed more appealing to him. He walked in his house and fell on the couch, panting and exhausted after the long walk home. Spectre felt sleep taking over pain, and he soon found himself dozing off. _No, I can sleep! I have to help Tressa… her parents will… be there… soon… _

XXXXXXX

When Tressa-Ca got home at lunchtime, she found her husband Spectre sprawled out on the couch of their living-room, fast asleep and snoring quietly. As angry as she was for leaving early without telling her, she couldn't help but think there was something cute and childlike about him sleeping like that. Tressa put the grocery bags she was carrying on the kitchen table, and went to sit next to the dark male on the couch.

Tressa bent and pecked his cheek, which brought a low growl from Spectre. He sleepily opened his red eyes, smiling upon seeing his wife. "Good morning," he yawned. He then frowned. "You aren't too mad at me about this morning?"

Tressa smiled and put her head on his shoulder. "To be honest, I thought that you were afraid of my parents and that you wouldn't come back. But now it's all right. What took you so long?"

Spectre wanted to tell her about his limbs replacement, about the pain he felt after surgery intervention, all these years spent in fear that he would have to go to the surgery room again, about his fourth uncle's death. But when he opened his mouth, all he said was: "Nothing. I guess the pain was slowing me down."

"Oh, okay. Well, my parents called: they will be here in a few hours. Oh, by the way, I found something nice for you to wear! You'll see, you'll be to-die for!" She excitedly got up and searched something in the bags she had brought back. Spectre couldn't help but roll his eyes; who knew what Tressa had in store for him this time.

"Should I be afraid?" he asked playfully.

"Depends," Tressa said, her voice muffled by the bags. "Maybe, maybe not."

Spectre chuckled as his wife came back from the kitchen, with something in her hands. The dark one realized it was a nice long-sleeved red shirt. "You can wear this with your black pants and boots, you'll look wonderful!" Tressa said. "But before we start setting up things, let's have lunch!"

Spectre didn't have the heart to tell Tressa that he hurt too much to eat; he just tagged along.

XXXXXXX

"Be still, will you! How am I supposed to help you if you keep trashing around?" Tressa scolded Spectre, who just shifted again to scratch his shoulder. She has been trying to adjust his shirt for the past two minutes, and was now buttoning the front of the shirt. But she would probably go faster if Spectre quitted moving. She finally let out an exasperated sigh. "Spectre, I swear you're worst than a child!"

"But Tressa, why won't you let me do this myself?" he asked.

"Because you would never manage to do so with those clumsy paws of yours," she answered simply while straightening his shirt.

"Clumsy paws?" Spectre repeated, more amused than angry. "What happened to the "to-die for" echidna you said I was? Did you finally realize you needed glasses?" He laughed a little as Tressa gave him a gentle swat along his cheek.

"Just you wait, one day you will regret," she joked, finally doing the last button and taking a step back to behold her handiwork. "You have to be the most handsome echidna on this side of the planet, Spectre!"

"So I once was the most wonderful echidna in the world, but I have clumsy paws, and now I'm only the most handsome on this side of the planet," Spectre pouted. "Make up your mind, woman!" He was amazed by the fact that joking made him forget some of his pain, making it easier to deal with.

Tressa giggled and threw her arms around Spectre's neck, and gently flicked his nose with a finger. "I made up my mind the day I saw you," she whispered softly. Spectre smiled and held her gently as they just stood here, taking in the other's presence. Their little moment was cut off when someone knocked on the door, and they broke away from each other.

"They're here," Tressa said. She turned to Spectre and straightened his collar one last time. "Remember: don't panic, don't be scared, stay cool, and above everything else, be yourself." Her words came out on top of each other, making it all the harder for Spectre to understand. "I know Mom will be nice, but Dad always have doubts on what he doesn't trust, and I think he will more than likely-"

"Tressa, honey, calm down," Spectre reassured her, rubbing her arm up and down in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure this will be just fine." _If only I could convince myself about that… May Chaos help me. _"Come on, let's open the door, otherwise they'll think something is wrong."

The dark male wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, and together they went to the door. Tressa reached and opened it, and there stood her parents. Her father was a deep purple echidna, as tall as Spectre, who wore a dark blue tuxedo and a neutral look. Tressa's mother was a happy-looking cream-furred echidna clad in a plain orange dress. She hugged her daughter as soon as she saw her.

"Tressa! My little girl, how are you?" she exclaimed, squeezing Tressa for all she was worth. "How is life with your husband?"

"Great, Mom, just great," Tressa gasped, wriggling out of her mother's embrace. She felt red got up in her cheeks from embarrassment, and hoped that Spectre didn't see it. He would never let her live this down if he did. She then pecked her father on his cheek, and saw her mother do the same to Spectre. She grinned as her husband's muzzle turned a slight pink.

Her father stepped up and held up his left hand to Spectre. "Glad to see you again, Spectre. Or should I say my son-in-law, now?" The dark one smiled uneasily, eyeing the outstretched hand worriedly. He held his cybernetic – fortunately gloved – hand, not wanting the other male to think something strange was going on, and shook his father-in-law's hand.

Tressa's father stopped dead in his tracks, still holding Spectre's hand in his own. He frowned; the feel of the fingers under the glove wasn't the one he was expecting. But before the older could say something, Tressa took Spectre's left arm and dragged him towards the door. "Spectre, honey, why don't you take care of Mom and Dad's luggage?"

"Sure, Tressa," the black echidna answered, quite shaken.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she smiled. "We'll wait for you in the living-room."

Nodding absently, Spectre got out of the house and walked towards the parents' car, still amazed that he had avoided being caught. Then something clicked in his mind, and he raised his head up. _Luggage? Just how much time are they going to stay here?_

XXXXXXX

Meanwhile, in the living room, Tressa and her parents were seated around the low table. Her father was in the armchair, while her mother was sitting next to her on the couch. They were chatting as they waited for Spectre. Well, Tressa's mother was chatting; her father was silent and Tressa hadn't managed to finish a sentence so far. Her mother wouldn't let her.

"So, sweetie, what's life like with your husband?" she asked.

"Mom, he's got a name you know," Tressa sighed. She was tired of her parents calling Spectre "your husband" or "your mate"; not that she minded, but it made her feel like he was lacking personality.

"Sorry, sweetie, but I can't help it. You know I can't shake the feeling that this man is not trustworthy. Are you sure about your decision? You know we can always find you another husband and-"

"Mom, we already talked about this. I love Spectre and nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind," Tressa replied, determinate.

"And this helmet he always wears. Seems strange to me."

"It's for medical reasons, Mom. He's not wearing it because he feels like it."

"But you-"

"Leave her be, Anica," Tressa's father suddenly said. It was the first time he spoke since they have been in the living-room. "She'll find out alone that she's been wrong all along. Leave her alone."

Now Tressa was more than angry. "Did you come all that way just to say that?"

Anica sighed, and turned to her husband. "She's right, Yanek. We're here to spend some quality time with our daughter, and the man she chose to marry. I don't want you embarrassing her hus- Spectre, is that clear?"

Yanek gritted his teeth, and at that moment they heard a voice say: "Where do I put these?" They all turned to see Spectre standing a few feet away, overly loaded with bags and suitcases. He smiled weakly at Tressa.

"Upstairs, honey, in the guest room," she answered. Spectre nodded and slowly went up the stairs, bending under his heavy load. Tressa had a grateful smile and turned to her parents. "You see, he's full of good intentions-" She was cut off by a startled yelp and a banging sound. "Err, well he's trying his best. Hmm, excuse me, I'll be back in a few seconds."

Wasting no time, Tressa rushed up the stairs and found Spectre laying face down on the ground, nearly crushed by suitcases and bags, growling and muttering curses. She stifled a giggle as she put away the bags on her husband's back, and helped him to sit up. "What happened?"

"I… sort of didn't see there was another step," he groaned, massaging his head.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll survive. Just give me some time to put all that stuff in the room and I'll come down. And pray Chaos I won't fall down the stairs!"

Tressa smiled warmly at him and kissed his forehead. She bent forwards and whispered in his ear: "Don't be long. I don't think I'll hold on much longer alone." At this Spectre pecked her cheek and winked at her.

As she went down the stairs, Spectre sighed and picked up the fallen luggage. _I have a feeling this is going to be a long day… _


	4. Creating Life

Disclaimer:Own nothing, besides what's mine. On with the last chapter!

**Chapter Four: Creating Life**

Spectre the Echidna sighed and toyed with his fork. He has been seating at the table in the dining room for five minutes, listening to his parents-in-law's chatting, but it had seemed like hours to him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes as Yanek complained about "dangerous drivers that roam the streets."

"You don't know, your best friend could be a mad man at the wheel!" he said. "Especially young people, they always want to show off and all. You can't walk in the street without-"

At that moment Spectre blanked him out. _Tressa, please, come back! I can't take it anymore! _As if on cue, his wife stepped out of the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly chopped vegetables in her hands. "Dinner is ready!" she happily announced.

They began eating in silence, the only sound that could be heard being the clinking of forks and knifes against a plate. Then Anica raised her head and decided it was time to start a conversation. "This is a nice house you got here, dears," she said.

"Thanks, Mom," Tressa smiled.

"Seems like a fine place to raise children."

Spectre and Yanek choked on their mouthful of salad. "Children?" Spectre gasped. Now, _that _was a subject he didn't want to talk about. But that wasn't his mother-in-law's case, because she smiled brightly at him.

"Of course, darling! So, how many do you want to have? Three, four?"

"Let's not talk about this now," Yanek growled. "We are trying to eat, after all."

_For once I agree with him, _Spectre thought bitterly. _I'd like to eat without carrots flying out of my nose. It's not like we wouldn't have the time to speak about this later, anyway. Not that I want to, though…_

"Nonsense, honey," Anica scoffed him off. "Now is as right as any other moment. And besides, it's kind of familial. So back to where I was, have you already mated?"

"Anica, we aren't wild animals. So speak like everyone else and call it "making love"," Yanek grumpily said.

Anica shrugged her shoulders and turned to Spectre and Tressa once again. "Whatever he says, have you already?" she asked in a matter of fact tone of voice.

By now Spectre was as red as his eyes, and tried to hide behind his gloved hands. Feeling Anica's eyes on him, he searched through his mind for a good excuse. "Err, oh would you look at that, I let my napkin fall. I'd better pick it up, hmm." He quickly slipped under the table, blindly searching for his non-existent napkin on the floor. _Why in the world did she have to bring that up? Why why why! _

"So, Tressa, have you?" Anica asked again. Spectre felt sorry for his wife, but there was no way he would answer that one!

"Err… yes?" Tressa answered hesitantly. Spectre heard Yanek choke once again, and he banged his forehead against the floor in embarrassment. _Well, on the other hand, I don't know if that was the wrong answer…_

"Wonderful! So, how many children do you want to have?" Anica asked brightly. Spectre got out from under the table and sat on his chair. _Boy, she never gives up, does she? Weird, I don't feel like eating anymore… _

Tressa seemed to be lost in thought. "I don't know… well I'd say, six or seven?"

Spectre widened his eyes and nearly fell off his chair. At this Tressa smiled sheepishly. "Just kidding." Spectre sighed in relief, when she suddenly added: "A dozen will be fine."

Spectre groaned and put his head in his hands. Now, it would be harder with Tressa turning against him. _How much time are they going to stay here already? _He had no idea, but it promised to be very long no matter the real length of the stay. Very, very long indeed…

XXXXXXX

Two days later, Spectre was fighting a delighted scream, and stuck to a relieved sigh. His parents-in-law were leaving, and he was happy about it although he knew it wasn't nice. But damn his inner thoughts, he couldn't keep his smile off his face.

He was actually bringing suitcases and travel bags down the stairs; the same ones that almost crushed him when Yanek and Anica had arrived. _You Chaos-possessed things! I hope I won't be seeing you before long! _He even was humming to himself as he closed the door of the guest room. These two days has been the longest of his life, but they were fortunately over.

He walked past Tressa on his way down the stairs, and smiled. "Good morning, my love and life!"

His wife raised one confused but amused eyebrow. "Well, aren't we cheerful this morning?" she chuckled. "I have to wonder why." She knew full well that her husband's happiness was coming from the fact that her parents were leaving, and she wasn't blaming him. The elders has been giving the black echidna hell for the past two days, keeping asking questions that she knew he wasn't comfortable with. Fortunately, she knew how to make up for it… and she would tell Spectre once Yanek and Anica were gone.

Spectre put the last bag in the car, and wiped his forehead. _Whoever created summer probably hated black-furred creatures. _He clung to the thought that he would soon be free as he stood under the burning sun, waiting for Tressa to say goodbye to her parents.

A delighted scream was slowly making its way up Spectre's throat as he waved at the moving car, and felt like a ton was lifted from his shoulders. He puffed his chest and released a big relieved sigh, earning himself an amused glance from Tressa-Ca. "Relieved about something?"

"Maybe," Spectre simply replied, his red eyes staring off into empty space.

He smiled when he felt his wife's arms wrapping themselves around him, and she put her head on his shoulder. "Then I'm sorry, but I'll have to break your relief."

Spectre frowned, but Tressa pulled him closer and whispered in his ear. "You'll have to think of a baby name, and soon, because I lack ideas at the moment…" The dark echidna was so flabbergasted he stood still for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He even thought Tressa has misspoken and this wasn't real.

"C-could you repeat that one?" he stammered.

She grinned, and leaned once again against him. "You know you heard what I said, father-to-be."

XXXXXXX

Four hours. It has been four hours since the moment he began pacing back and forth in front of that damned door. And something was telling him he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. _Just… how much time does it take to deliver an egg, anyway? _

Spectre sighed and sat down. This has been the same routine since the beginning; he stood, paced a bit, and sat down, only to begin all over again. Ever so often he would cast a glance towards the door, but nothing had happened so far.

Haven's medical wing seemed smaller than the last time he has seen it, but the fear he felt whenever he was near it has stayed the same. Just the thought of that white sterile room, those metallic surgery tools… he knew he was doing himself mental harm with these memories, but he couldn't help it. And Tressa-Ca has been in this room for four hours now, giving birth to the son of a Guardian.

The son of a Guardian… Spectre was aware that this wasn't a life every child would like to have, but there wasn't any other way. On top of that, the child would have to stand its unnerving and half-robotized father.

Spectre ground his teeth; would he be a good father? The answer came in another form. _Look at you, no child would like you to be its father. You won't even be able to touch it, unless you want it to be disgusted for the rest of its life. You're bound to watch it grow without interfering, that's all. _The dark one sighed; no, he wouldn't be able to get any physical contact, but he would be forced nevertheless to train the Guardian-to-be.

The black echidna put his cybernetic hand in his lap, pulling the glove off. He flexed his fingers, one after one, feeling the power and static energy coursing through his non-existent bones. He had half a mind to rip the metallic arm off, tear it to pieces and scatter every bit of metal in Haven's corridors. _But I can't have that, _he thought while slipping the glove back on. _No, I can't. _

Spectre was about to get up and pace again, when the door suddenly opened. He was on his feet before he knew it, running up to Hawking. "So?" he asked impatiently. "What is it? What is it?"

Hawking blinked a few times, startled by his second son's outburst. "Well, it's… an egg," he answered simply. "What did you expect?"

Spectre rolled his eyes, and fought the urge to punch Hawking into the ground. "No, I mean is it a boy or a girl? Is Tressa all right? Did anything go wrong? How-"

"Hey, calm down, will you! No, nothing went wrong, your wife is all right and I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. You'll have to wait till it hatches."

"And when will that be?"

"Tomorrow, I think."

Spectre groaned, but nodded. He understood that there was nothing else to be done; he'd just have to put up with his anxiety and impatience till the next day. "Can I see Tressa?" he asked hopefully.

"Go ahead. I put the egg near the bed."

The younger echidna nodded once again, and as Hawing was leaving he went for the door. Pulling it open, Spectre got in the room and smiled when he caught sight of his wife lying in a bed. She looked exhausted, but happy as she returned a weak smile.

"Hello," Spectre greeted quietly. The raw and almost respectful silence in the room made his own voice ring through his ears. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he walked to her bedside.

"Fine, thanks," she answered in a tired voice.

"How did it go?" Spectre took her hand in his flesh one.

"Well, let's just say there were times I wanted to rip your eyes out-" Spectre winced but managed a weak smile. "-but it's all right, now. It was worth it." She began gazing lovingly at the egg, actually in an incubator near the bed.

Spectre's heart warmed up with love and pride as he looked at the result of their undying love for the first time. He squeezed Tressa's as gently as he could. "Grandfather Hawking told me it would hatch tomorrow," he said.

Tressa nodded, and Spectre could see the exhaustion in her aqua blue eyes. He kissed her forehead and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Sleep. I'll stay with you. Rest well, my love." You didn't need to tell her twice; she instantly fell asleep against the black male, who smiled down at her. _Tomorrow… tomorrow we'll see._

XXXXXXX

A soft cracking sound was what woke Spectre up. The dark male yawned, and in the few seconds between opening his eyes and being fully awake he wondered why in the world he had slept in a sitting position.

Then he saw his wife leaning against him, still asleep, and all came back to him. He was in Haven, in the medical wing, waiting with Tressa for their child to come out of its egg. He had spent the entire night here, keeping guard, but had eventually dozed off himself.

_Wait a second… what was that crack? _Frowning, Spectre cast a glance at the egg in the incubator next to the bed – and to his surprise found the top shattered. His child was coming out!

The dark echidna thought about shaking Tressa awake, but in the end decided against it; she needed all the rest she could get, and he hadn't the heart to refuse her that. He gently laid her on her pillow and went to stand over the incubator, curious and anxious at the same time.

First he saw a foot. A tiny lavender-furred foot, which got out of the egg and rested on a side. Then came out two little hands, barely the same size as Spectre's nose. The black bent forwards, and this way was able to take a close look at his newborn baby son: a tiny lavender echidna, with bright blue eyes and some hair of a shade darker than his fur atop his head.

As well as the unmistakable white crescent on his chest.

Born to be a Guardian. One of the most powerful beings on Mobius, protector of the most powerful gem in the world, bound to fight till death come for him… but at the moment nothing more than a small baby squirming to get out of his egg. Spectre's first paternal instincts awoke when he heard his son squeak in protest and saw him struggle some more.

Spectre lowered the arms he didn't know he had raised. There was nothing he could do; a monster such as him wasn't allowed to touch such a pure and innocent being.

"What are you waiting for? I don't think he'll bite you." Tressa's voice caught Spectre off guard, and he raised his head to see his wife smiling warmly at him. Her smile encouraged him, and he finally opened the transparent incubator.

With trembling hands he picked up his newly-hatched son, holding his breath every time the baby squeaked or moved in his gloved hands. Before long Spectre had his lavender-furred son cradled to his chest, his flesh hand under the baby's back and his cybernetic one supporting the head. Spectre was squeezing his son as much as he dared to, afraid that he would drop him at any moment.

"Relax, Spectre," his wife told him.

The black-furred male nodded, and found himself releasing his grip a little. He sat beside his wife on the bed, and mother and father watched their son blink his shimmering blue eyes at them. Spectre set him in Tressa's lap, and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders.

"He is beautiful, Spectre," Tressa whispered with raw emotion.

"Yes he is." Spectre kissed his wife on the forehead, before waving a finger in front of his son's face. The baby squealed in delight and grabbed the finger, making his father chuckle. Tressa brushed the few strands on her son's head as he enclosed his toothless jaws around his father's finger and chewed.

"What are we going to name him?" Spectre asked, amused.

Tressa looked up at her husband. "Well, I've been thinking about-"

XXXXXXX

"Thunderhawk!" Spectre yelled. He tapped his foot against the ground, arms crossed as he waited for his son to come. "Come here, son!"

He could have easily guessed what had happened has been bound to happen. Spectre has been painting the front door, because Tressa found it to be slightly damaged. But the Brotherhood had called him up, so he was forced to let everything in place till his return. But of course, his son Thunderhawk just _had _to mess things up.

And here was Spectre, now, standing in the middle of a brown paint-stained living-room. This had Thunderhawk written all over it. _Wait till I get my hands on you, boy. _"Thunderhawk! Come here!"

Finally, a pair of frightened blue eyes peeked in the living-room from the door of the corridor. Spectre heard a gulping sound. "Y-yes, Father?" the five years-old trembled. Although he knew his father wouldn't do him any real harm, he dreaded his reaction. "What is it?"

"What is it? Come closer, boy, and look at me." Thunderhawk didn't even budge, frozen where he was behind the doorframe. "Come here," Spectre repeated in a dangerous voice. He knew his son well enough to know that such behaviour wasn't like him. He had done something, as Spectre thought. "Come here now, my boy."

Thunderhawk hesitated before finally stepping in the messed up living-room. And Spectre saw exactly what he was expecting to see. The lavender-furred kid was covered in mostly dry brown paint. Spectre had half a mind to scold him when he noticed the sheepish look on his son's face. The dark male sighed. "What happened?"

"I-I was running home," Thunderhawk stammered, "and when I opened the door, I knocked over a bucket of paint and I fell. I didn't mean to do it, promise!" The young echidna was waiting for his father to yell at him and punish him, but Spectre did none.

He sighed. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," Thunderhawk answered, taken aback.

"No harm done, then. Come on, we better clean all this mess before your mother-"

"I'm home!" Tressa's cheerful voice exclaimed.

_Edmund! _Thunderhawk shot a fearful glance at his father, who shrugged helplessly. Spectre was about to tell him something when a gasp filled the air. Spectre turned to see his wife standing here, eyes widened as she looked at the state her living-room was in. "Great Aurora, what happened here!"

"Well, you see Tressa, this is complicated," Spectre began.

"We can explain, Mother," Thunderhawk gulped.

"I certainly hope you two can!" she said dangerously. Then she noticed the state her son was in. "Thunderhawk! What have you done? You can't stay like this, baby, come on let's get you cleaned up. A good bath is in order."

Thunderhawk winced. "Aw, not a bath! Please, Mother!"

"I said a bath, then it is a bath. Come on."

The lavender echidna, revolted by the simple idea of his mother giving him a bath, made a run for it and plunged under the sofa, his mother hot on his heels. "Thunderhawk the Echidna, come out of there this instant!" she commanded. When her son shook his head fervently, huddled under the sofa, she turned to her chuckling husband. "Spectre, get him out."

"Or else?" Spectre asked, smirking.

"Or else I'll make you rue the day you met me," she growled, a fire burning in her blue eyes.

Spectre seemed to be in deep thoughts during a few seconds. Then he smiled. "I'm sorry, son." He pushed the sofa aside and picked Thunderhawk up before the younger could do anything to escape. Spectre put him on his shoulder and began walking towards the bathroom. "Traitor!" Thunderhawk hissed.

"I prefer the term "wise one"," Spectre corrected amusedly.

"I'd say coward!"

Spectre couldn't help a smile. Yes, he had suffered many years. Yes, life cost him many things. But in the end, he had got a life. He had gone from suffering, to enjoying and finally creating. And now… well, you could say he was _putting up _with life, as it seemed!

"Put me down!"

"Your mother doesn't want me to."

"By the way, speaking of mother, Spectre," Tressa said. "My parents are coming tomorrow to visit us. Could you get the guest room ready, please?"

Spectre literally froze in place, his struggling son across his shoulder. _Why does it seem so familiar? _Sigh. _Here we go again… _A smirk then made its way to his lips, and he put Thunderhawk on the ground. "Run, son! Run!" The young lavender echidna took off, screaming a "Thank you!" before disappearing. Tressa gasped and turned to Spectre.

"Why did you do this?" she asked, fuming.

"I don't know what came over me," he responded, still smirking.

"As for me, I certainly do know what's coming for you!" Tressa took off a second before Spectre did. The dark one laughed heartily while running, feeling free. _Life has gotten a hell more interesting, and I hope it'll stay that way! _


End file.
